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<title>Ring the Bell Backwards, Bury the Axe by Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865742">Ring the Bell Backwards, Bury the Axe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HP_Lovecats/pseuds/Coffin%20Liqueur'>Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family, Game: Resident Evil 7, Gen, Mild Language, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Regret, Relationship Study, Sibling Rivalry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:02:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HP_Lovecats/pseuds/Coffin%20Liqueur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Say the word, and I’d plow this whole swamp into level ground single-handed to get where my family needs me to be.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Baker &amp; Joe Baker, Jack Baker &amp; Marguerite Baker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ring the Bell Backwards, Bury the Axe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Thank you, Joe -- for..." Marguerite cut herself off with a sticking in her throat. Her smile faltered as she looked down into her arms at li'l Luke; he stared up, with eyes as big and bright blue as hers, catchin' the light of the lamps on to warm through the heavy windy-and-raininess of the night, color dampened by the orange such that the stare near looked white like a Weimaraner's.</p><p>Under his whiskers, Joe's mouth twitched at a chuckle threatenin' to shake itself loose and free, out of endearment in and of itself.</p><p>Meanwhile, Marguerite's chest swelled, and she shut her eyes slowly. With a sigh and a few slight <em>flickers</em> in her face, too, she brought herself up to smiling again. The kid hollered indistinctly, stickin' a hand up to paw in the air, and his mama started again.</p><p>" -- Thanks, Joe, as I was sayin'," she said, with a rueful furrowing in her brow. She took a step over, head turnin' aside somewhat. "Thanks for -- comin' through, in such a hard time..."</p><p>Lucas squeezed those gawkers of his closed like someone had just stuck a light in 'em; they snapped back open and turned straight onto Joe, as he and his mama drew closer over. Joe gave the little fella an affectionate smirk outright, not without regard and intentionality given how clearly he was honest-to-god <em>lookin'</em> - letting the bright whippersnapper <em>in</em> on something - before he nodded from the top of a loose neck, heavily-resignedly, as some form of a heads-up.</p><p>He gave his family's current one-and-only <em>Missus Baker</em> a ready, restfully-heavy couple pats on the shoulder. She pulsed a smile higher on one side up toward the sleek bone of one cheek, and it met the corresponding eye, too, if still with wistfulness, and without any other real <em>move</em>.</p><p>The kid stuffed his whole damn fist into his mouth and, as if <em>dared</em> to watch by the fixture of his <em>gawking</em>, Joe caught him beginning to "chew".</p><p>Made it easier to rumble into a soft, friendly laugh as he began a response.</p><p>"...What's <em>family</em> -- right, Meg...?"</p><p>Somethin' in his chest <em>churned</em> and creaked like something was gurgling in a makeshift bridge over mud.</p><p>He was <em>imposing</em> on shit, he reckoned - after time after time of boyhood <em>scraps</em> and showin'-ups and all-in-all increasing lack of <em>brotherhood</em>, he doubted that Jack would ever quite trust him, certainly not as much as he had when he was still just a greenhorn kid, lookin' up to a slightly-less greenhorn kid.</p><p>And that was <em>not</em> factoring in the fact that he was sure no man would like to come home from deployment to find that his big brother's been spending the whole time in <em>his</em> house, with <em>his</em> wife, hangin' around with <em>his</em> new boy.</p><p>He hoped Jackie-Boy'd know better logically in the end, though - that Joe didn't like this much enclosed space, anyway, or even the best o' unavoidable company; that he'd be a damned idiot to think Marguerite was <em>that kind of lady</em>, and to bring her into any bullshit was to forget the kind of spirited and direct and <em>passionately</em> protective woman, of everything she and he both thought were <em>worth</em> standin' up for, who he'd <em>settled down</em> with.</p><p>...Another thing he supposed he <em>reckoned</em> in the end was that really, it was for Marguerite's sake that he hoped Little Ol' Jack wouldn't get all <em>touchy</em> about things when he came home. Rising to challenges - against his character, against his capabilities, hell, against nature itself, he was bona fide proud to say - was all just something he <em>did.</em></p><p>Maybe he liked to think he and Meg were a bit alike in some certain ways, but the many differences there were ultimately amounted to her bein' too good to <em>need</em> to put up with her honor bein' challenged.</p><p>His hand, which hadn't moved a hint, gave Marguerite's shoulder a quick squeeze as he thought.</p><p>"You're my honorary <em>sister</em> now, and you and the little <em>pup</em> you got here," he said, with a blade-handed point down at li'l Luke, noticing momentarily as he skipped past cause to think about what kind o' <em>sibling</em> he was, and right onto the point, instead: "I gotta be the best friend I can <em>be</em> to the two o' y'all, when my little brother, bless him, can't take on more than any one fella can, all at once in life...!"</p><p>That was another thing to think about, weren't it:</p><p>Jack was gonna need to take a load-off from fighting.</p><p>For longer than anybody could tell, Joe wagered. It was aught to happen that way.</p><p>He <em>tried</em> to knead it out, the <em>clenching</em> of that hope in him into sternness, as the thought persisted that Jack <em>should</em> know better than to go on finding or making challenges out of nothing.</p><p>In the process, though, he hit something that <em>stung</em>.</p><p>And an irony turned the sting into a bitter-yet-angry <em>seethe</em>.</p><p>Jack never <em>knew</em> when enough was enough, he thought. Never knew when to let up for his <em>own</em> good, if no one else’s. <em>Why can’t you just. Why can’t you just. Why can’t you just.</em></p><p>...And yet, sometimes <em>why</em> didn’t matter, huh.</p><p>Nor had he been too good at helping matters in the past.</p><p>He dropped his eyes, dull with resignation, back onto the face of li’l Luke, whose stare had finally unfocused. His face screwed up as he continued to gum at his own hand, gurgling.</p><p>Joe’s hand went from a gentle grab to a playful "push", wobblin’ in place before he withdrew it.</p><p>"I’m always gonna be right <em>out there</em>," he said, dust-husky and heavy. "All any o’ y’all’s gotta do is say the <em>word</em>, and I’d plow this whole old swamp level single-handed to get right where my family needs me to be."</p><p>...If Jack didn’t need no more stress, then fine. He wouldn’t give it to ‘im. He’d just have to keep up with the times. Slip right off back into his shack, which wasn’t like it was a whole <em>day’s</em> trek away. He did well for ‘imself in his own lane, anyway. Liked it and lived it.</p><p>And he’d surely always have a whole nighttime by fireside’s worth of stories for whenever the word <em>was</em> said.</p><p>"Promise, all right...?" he added, and Marguerite, sweet-‘n-sparkling-eyed, ducked a nod.</p><p>Joe had never much liked compromise, either.</p><p>But this seemed like it oughta be a nice and easy enough one to keep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written using the <a href="https://towriteprompts.tumblr.com/onewordprompts">One Word Prompts</a> list from towriteprompts @ Tumblr!</p><p>Word 7: "Uncle".</p></blockquote></div></div>
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